Better Be Important
by No Petrol Required
Summary: Eames is gone. He left for the airport, probably never to return again. Arthur, while searching the closet, finds something he didn't expect. And now, their lives remain in the hands of someone else. One wrong move, and they will be erased. Arthur/Eames. Whump. Bad description, better story.
1. Chapter 1: Leaving

**A:N: Hi guys! I'm on a roll today! Haha. This is yet another Arthur/Eames story. I can't help myself. That ship is so damn cute it hurts. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except for this plot. I don't own Inception or its characters associated with it. **

_**Better Be Important**_

"Eames, I have to go," Arthur whispered, gently detangling himself from the Forger.

Eames, looking sleep-tussled, yawned. "No, you don't." He attempted to pull the Point Man closer, but was surprised when the younger man struggled against his touch.

"No, Eames. I really have to go. I can't stay with you." His words, harsh and bitter, were softened by his sad eyes, the ones near tears.

Eames stared at Arthur, his eyes full of hurt. The hurt quickly morphed into anger. "It's HER, isn't it? You're leaving me for her?" Tears gathered in his eyes, which he quickly scrubbed away with the back of his hand.

Arthur looked pained as he murmured gently, "Don't talk about Ariadne like that. It's not because of her. I just can't stay with you anymore."

Eames got out of the bed. Their bed. "Well, I can't stay here anymore either. Guess I'll be leaving as well."

"Where will you go?"

"Mombasa. At least they somewhat appreciate me there." Eames, tears regenerating in his eyes, ducked away to grab his duffel bag. He stuffed whatever clothes he touched into it without really caring if they were clean or dirty.

"Eames. Eames, don't do this. Don't _say _that. I do care about you. Really, I do. I care about you so much that it hurts me. I just can't stay."

Eames shot Arthur a look so full of icy venom that his heart stopped. "If you care about me so much, why are you leaving?" When Arthur didn't respond, Eames scoffed. "Of course you can't answer me." With a tear trailing down his face, Eames left their bedroom. Arthur could hear his footsteps retreating to the front door. The door creaked open before slamming shut. He could faintly hear the sound of Eames' car starting up in the drive. Soon, the sound of the engine faded away, leaving only silence. The silence roared in his ears. There had never been this much silence in this house unless Eames was sleeping. Now it was just emptiness that rang out.

Arthur flopped down on the bed, rubbing his face with his hands. Eames, the man he loved and adored, was gone. Back to Mombasa, where he could drink himself into a stupor and gamble away all his remaining funds from Saito. He could find pretty girls to spend the night with, never to see them again. He could recover from Arthur. But Arthur could never recover from him.

He grabbed his own duffel bag. Stuffing it with suits and socks and anything he could grab, he stumbled upon something: a small bag hanging on Eames' side of the closet. Curious, Arthur slowly opened the bag. He found an envelope in there, along with a small black box. He opened the envelope first. In it was a letter.

_To my dearest Arthur,_

_I don't think that words can describe how much I love you. At least, none of the words in MY vocabulary can describe it. Maybe in your vocabulary, since you are practically a damn walking dictionary. Anyways, darling, I just wanted to let you know that I have loved you since I first saw you. I know, the cliché love at first sight might not be something you believe in. But it's something I can now believe in, as I have experienced it for myself. Everytime I saw you, my heart would skip a beat or two. I got nervous. You were all I could think about. And I knew that you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Life without you seems like a bleak, dull possibility. I probably wouldn't be able to survive without you. Sure, I could function. But really, what are you supposed to do if you are missing the other half of your whole being? Because, my pet, you are my other half. You are the one I am meant to be with. As I am writing this, you are sleeping in our shared bed. I am the luckiest man alive to have found you. I cannot believe that you are mine. You are the most perfect, amazing man I have ever met. With those dimples, those chocolate brown eyes, those tousled curls of yours, I would've sworn you were an angel. I don't mean to sound cheesy, but I know I probably do. Just know that I love you a lot. And now that you have read this letter, you can open the black box and tell me your answer. _

_Yours eternally,_

_Eames_

Arthur began to cry even before he pulled out the box. That letter, those heartfelt words, had to be real. He kicked out the man who was his other half. He didn't mean to! He just needed to leave. With a shaky hand, Arthur pulled out the box. The coal black velvet box was smooth in his hands and on his fingertips as he opened it. When he saw what was inside, he fell back onto the bed. It was a platinum engagement ring. Just the simple silver band held so much meaning: their love and desire. Their future, in which they were meant to spend the rest of their lived together.

He pulled out his phone and dialed that familiar number. As the phone shrilly rang, he prayed, "Pick up, Eames. Pick up. Please."

"Eames," the British man intoned sarcastically. "What could I POSSIBLY do for you Arthur? I'm on my way to the airport now, so this better be impor-"

"Yes, Eames. My answer is yes. Please come home where you belong."

Eames was silent for a few moments. Arthur didn't dare breathe. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest by the time Eames finally responded, "You found the box."

"Yes. I was packing my things, and I found it. I love you so much Eames. Please come back home. I can't live without you. Love at first sight is really such a cliché but I believe in it. I loved you from the first moment I saw you as well. I don't know why I acted so annoyed by you. I loved you from the beginning. Please come home. You are the other half of me. Together, we are whole. We are bound to each other. You own one half of my heart, and I own one half of yours. It's true- without each other, we won't function. We cannot properly function unless we have each other. So please, don't leave."

"Pet, I never left the block. I couldn't leave you. I'm pulling into the drive as we speak."

Arthur shot to the window. Sure enough, his damn car was pulling back into their drive. "I love you."

"I love you too." As he said these words, the front door swung open. Arthur dropped his phone and sprinted to the man, his other half. Eames' arms were outstretched, waiting to embrace the younger man. Arthur collided into Eames, burying his face in his shirt.

"Please don't leave again. I couldn't possibly live without you," Arthur said, his voice muffled by Eames' horrid looking pink paisley shirt.

For a shirt so ugly, Eames did make it look so sexy. The man with terrible style kissed the top of Arthur's head. "Never again will I leave. But darling, tell me one thing. Why were you going to leave me?"

A gun cocked behind Eames' head. The barrel pressed against his head as a woman's voice icily snarled, "Because I told him to."


	2. Chapter 2: Take Care of My Heart

**A.N: Hey guys! Chapter two for you. Thanks to all who reviewed and told me to keep going. Updates will be very sporatic, since my schedule is getting a bit more hectic. I only have a few more weeks until school starts up again! This story will keep going, don't worry. Just please, be patient. I love you all who have read this. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own that psychotic wench. Nothing else except the plot. Not Inception, or the characters associated with it. *sigh***

Eames winced. "Dammit, darling. Why would you do this to me?" he whispered brokenly.

Arthur gazed at his lover, eyes sparkling with tears. He answered, "I'm so sorry Eames. I never wanted to do this to you. Please understand that." The younger man inhaled shakily. "I love you so much."

"So this is your way of proving your love to me? If this is how you show your affection… I don't want any of it." Eames' words were full of acid, biting at Arthur's heart. "Let me go, and I'll never contact you again."

"QUIET!" the woman screamed, digging the barrel of her gun harder into the back of Eames' head. "You do not bargain here. I am in charge of whether or not you leave this room. Understand?"

Eames reached slowly into his pocket. He touched his totem- his red poker chip. Taking it carefully into his hand, he noticed that everything about it was right. This wasn't a dream. He desperately yearned for it to be one, but this was reality. "Arthur, listen to me," he begged, his British-accented voice dropping a couple octaves. "Please, let me go. I love you, no matter what I say in this room. I will love you until the day I die. Please don't let me die in this room."

The Point Man began to cry. He buried his face in his hands. "I don't want you to die in this room. I never wanted this to happen. But you have to understand the leverage that she has on me."

Eames cocked an eyebrow, curious. "What kind of leverage does she have on you?"

"She has a PASIV. One wrong move on my part and she will put me under and, with the aid of her team, they will extract everything that I know." Arthur's voice broke, and he sighed. "There is no happy ending for this. I'm sorry."

"Shit. Who knows about this? Anyone?" Eames asked incredulously.

"No. Nobody knows about this. But we are supposed to watch J-"

The front door swung open. "Uncuh Eames! Uncuh Arthur!" their boss' young son, James Cobb, shrieked happily. "Daddy said we could play together today!"

The color drained from the Forger's face. "Oh God. I forgot that we promised Cobb we would take care of James today."

The woman hissed. "I'll be back!" she growled before opening the window by the bed and hopping out gracefully. She landed in a nearby tree, and she leapt treetop to treetop.

"Who the hell is that?" Eames questioned under his breath, retreating from the room. "Hold on James! I'll be right down!" he called through the open doorway.

"She's an old business associate," Arthur deadpanned, going to greet the young boy.

"You worked with that psychotic wench?"

"Sadly. She didn't used to be quite this psychotic."

After about an hour straight of playing nothing but tag in the backyard, James was sprawled out on the guest bed. His face was covered by his golden locks, and he was snoring. Eames tucked the boy in before going to sit in the living room. Arthur was already sitting on the couch, staring outside.

Eames sat beside him. "What can you tell me about this woman?"

Arthur sighed. "Her name is Felicia. I worked with her in Italy years ago. She told me that she was in love with me, and that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. This was some time after I had first met you, and I knew that nobody could compare to what I saw in you. I gently told her that I wasn't interested in her, and that I had already met someone. She refused to understand, screaming at me that she was supposed to be with me, that she loved me more than life itself. Our Extractor, Kent, he bought me a ticket to Buenos Aires. He told me to lay low and to never come back. There, I met back up with Cobb. But Felicia followed me through the airport. I don't know how I didn't see her. After a while, she finally lost my trail. I don't know how she found me again." Arthur exhaled steadily, his breath tickling Eames' ear. "I'm sorry that you got mixed in with this. I never wanted to get you involved."

Eames blew out a huge breath. "Well, this is just fine and dandy. You have a crazy woman in love with you that wants to kill me so she can have you forever?"

"That's how it seems."

"Fantastic!" Eames ran his hands through his already disheveled blond hair. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"I guess we could leave," Arthur suggested slowly. "Is your bag still packed?"

Eames nodded. "Where could we go? And we still have James. What would we do with him?"

"Cobb will understand if we have to drop him off back at home a bit early." Arthur stood up. "I'll get the bags and put them in the back of my car. You grab James." He jogged for the staircase leading up to their master suite. "Where will we go?"

"We'll decide that later. Now, we just go." Eames headed for the guest bedroom. James was beginning to stir slightly. He gently shook the young boy's shoulder. "James. Hey, buddy, we have to go. I'm taking you back to your dad's."

James sleepily murmured, "Already, Uncuh Eames? But I want to spend more time with you and Uncuh Arthur."

Tears sparkled in the British man's eyes as he whispered, "I know, kid. I want to spend more time with you to. But Uncle Arthur and I have to leave. Tell your dad we're sorry, okay?"

James nodded, his hair brushing against the pillow. "Where are you going?"

Eames sighed. "We don't know yet, kiddo. We'll call you when we get there, okay?" He picked up James gently, cradling him to his body.

"Okay, Uncuh Eames," James answered, closing his eyes again. As soon as his breathing evened out, Eames left the room. He walked out to the garage, careful not to jostle James too much. Arthur was already done loading the car. Eames gently set the young Mr. Cobb in the back seat, tucking him in with a blanket they kept in the car.

"This should be fun," Arthur intoned sarcastically. He wrapped his arms around his other half, kissing his neck. "Where do you want to go?"

Eames sighed, for possibly the millionth time that night. "I don't know Arthur. Let's just get out of here."

So they got into the car and drove towards Cobb's house. Dominic Cobb, alerted by Arthur's phone call, was waiting outside. He opened the backseat and retrieved his son. "Do what you have to do, guys. Just stay safe, okay?" Cobb said, reaching out to shake Arthur's hand.

Arthur shook his hand, nodding curtly. "We'll do our best."

"Goodbye, Eames. Arthur." Cobb backed away. The "dynamic duo", as they had been labeled before, drove away in silence. Cobb watched their car grow smaller and smaller, until all he could see was the faint glow of their taillights. Soon, even that red glow was gone.

"How does going to Italy sound to you?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"But that's where Felicia's team is, right? Why would we do that?" Eames responded, flabbergasted. Then, it clicked in his mind. "She wouldn't suspect it."

"Exactly." Arthur grinned, revealing those dimples that Eames loved so much. He turned the car and drove in the direction of the airport.


	3. Chapter 3: Nothing Lasts Forever Anyways

**A.N: Hey guys! So I felt the need to update NOW. Haha. And to answer one lovely review- Yes, AliceEvangeline, the whump with Eames will definitely come later. Maybe later in this chapter. *grins devilishly* Don't worry your pretty little head. Also, major fluff in this chapter. Hope nobody minds! Anyways, this chapter is a bit longer than the usual. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but a certain psychotic wench, her team, a few extra characters, and the plot. Inception and the characters that come with it do not belong to me.**

Eames had forgotten how beautiful Italy was. The smell of figs hung in the warm air. Everything was so GREEN. The tree leaves, the vineyards, the grassy hills, it all looked so wonderful. He looked to his right and was breathless, the oxygen stolen by something- someone- more beautiful than all the landscape. His Arthur smiled back at him, his dimples flashing again. Eames smiled back at the most perfect human being he had ever seen.

"What's on your mind?" Arthur asked, his silky voice caressing Eames' heart, his mind. "You look distracted."

"The only thing that is distracting me, pet, is your perfection. I've been thinking about how none of this-" At this he gestured wildly to their surroundings, "can beat your beauty."

Arthur blushed, the rosy pink color rising from his cheeks. He looked so innocent, so boyish with that flush. "Eames, stop it. You're too kind." He reached out for the older man's hand. "I love you."

Just with those simple words, Eames' grin widened. "Those three words… you just have to say those three words, and you have me drooling like a baby. I love you so much, darling." He leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met, and the sparks flew. They were polar opposites: Arthur the responsible one, Eames the fun-loving one. Together, they were the yin to the yang. Arthur wrapped his arms around Eames, not caring if this was appropriate for public or not.

They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Arthur pulled away first, confused as to who was there. As soon as he made eye contact, his chocolate brown eyes widened. He shoved Eames out of the way, but it was too late. The sound of a gun going off tore through the air. It pierced the ears of everyone in the surrounding area.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion as Eames hit the ground. Blood pooled out of the wound in his shoulder. He cried out in pain, the sound full of heart-wrenching agony. He reached for his gun, but couldn't make his other arm work.

Arthur screamed, "NO! EAMES!" He reached for his gun and, clicking off the safety, fired at the assailant. After the sound stopped echoing in Arthur's ears, the other person hit the ground. Unlike Eames, however, they couldn't fumble to reach anything. They were dead.

Eames gasped, "Who was that?" between short, sharp breaths.

"They worked for Felicia. God, Eames, how bad does it hurt?" Arthur fell to his knees beside Eames. His hands hung hesitantly above the bloody wound. "It looks like it went cleanly through."

"It's not too bad." Eames winced as Arthur took off his Armani suit jacket and pressed it to the spot of white hot agony. "Okay, now it hurts slightly more." He gnawed at his lush lower lip.

"I have a friend around here. They owe me a big favor. They can fix you up, okay?" Arthur stood slowly and held out his hand to help the Forger up. With a grunt, he hauled the heavier man up.

Eames staggered forward, nearly tripping. Arthur steadied him. "How far are they? Hopefully not too far, as I can only manage to walk like a drunkard. Don't want to attract any unwanted attention, right?"

"Not too far, I promise." Together, with Eames leaning heavily on Arthur, they made their way to his 'friend'.

A couple hours later, a bottle of vodka, and many gauze bandages later, Eames was good as new. Or so he had claimed. His shoulder was wrapped up, and he had to replace his shirt. Nothing was quite as suspicious as a blood-stained shirt with a bullet sized hole in it.

"Eames, are you sure you're okay?" Arthur asked quietly, concern colored darkly in his voice. "Your face is bruised, your lip is busted. How hard did you hit the ground?"

Eames ignored the scarlet blood dripping from his lip. "Not too hard, I think. Or maybe I did hit it pretty hard. I don't know, pet," he responded. Sighing, he accepted Arthur's pocket handkerchief and held it to his lower lip. "How soon can we get out of here?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You were just shot about two hours ago. You already want to leave?"

"Yeah… I just don't want Felicia to be able to track us now. How long do you give her before she notices that one of her little debutante spies is dead?" Even though his tone was light and cheery, Arthur could see that Eames was worried.

"Knowing Felicia, she probably already found out. Maybe you're right; we should get out of here. I'll see if we can borrow a car." Arthur strode away, his head held high. Eames watched as he slowly had a conversation, in Italian, with one of his 'friends'. Within the span of three sentences out of his mouth, Arthur was given a set of keys. He walked back to Eames. "Ready to go, Eames?"

"You're a bloody magician! How the hell did you get them to agree that fast?" Eames asked, his voice full of awe and shock.

Arthur smiled. "Like I said, they owe me a big favor. This is all one big favor." He leaned in and kissed Eames gently on the cheek. "Let's go."

After a few goodbyes were exchanged, the couple made their way out to the car. It was a simple black car, sleek and inconspicuous. Arthur opened the door for Eames, who kissed him as he was getting in. "Thank you, darling."

Arthur had a huge smile on his face as he carefully shut the door and made his way to the driver's seat. As soon as he got settled in, he turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred softly, responding happily as Arthur stepped on the gas. They took off down the street, pedestrians barely giving them a second look.

Minutes into their peaceful drive, Eames' phone went off. The British man reached into his pocket and pulled out the cellular device. He glanced at the caller ID before flipping it open. "Hi, Ari. What's going on, pet? Enjoying your last year of university?" He listened intently. After a minute, he cursed. "Dammit. I didn't want them to involve anyone. I'm so sorry. We'll save you, okay?" He hung up, flipping his phone shut aggressively.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

"They have Ariadne. They won't let her go until they have the two of us. What are we going to do, Arthur? We can't let them torture Ari." Eames' voice was full of desperation. "I know I've said mean things about her to you, but I care about her. I really do."

"I know, Eames," Arthur cooed. His voice went from the caring reassurance of a lover to the man who could think of extravagant plans in an instant. "Where are they holding her?"

"They have her in Stockholm. Do you happen to have any associates there?"

Arthur grinned devilishly. "I do, actually. You'll love her. She isn't a psychotic wench that I once worked with."

Eames groaned. "All the people you once worked with seem like they're either psychotic or something isn't right upstairs."

Arthur stuck his tongue out at Eames. "Shut up, Mr. Eames. You'll like her. I promise."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Saito chartered a private jet for the duo. They relaxed, even though what was to come was inevitable. One of them might not make it out of this alive. This was going to be the battle of life or death. Arthur grabbed Eames' hand. Eames grinned, settling back in his seat. "You know, darling. If something were to happen to me-"

"Eames, don't think like that," Arthur interrupted, grimacing.

"No, pet, this is important. If something were to happen to me, I have a letter for you hidden in one of your jackets. If something happens, I want you to read it. Okay?" Eames' sea green eyes stared into Arthur's chocolate brown eyes. "You have to promise me."

"Eames," Arthur whispered, his voice thick with tears.

"Promise!"

"Okay, Eames! I promise." A tear trailed down Arthur's cheek.

Eames kissed Arthur's hand. "I didn't mean to upset you, darling."

Arthur exhaled noisily. "You didn't upset me, Eames. I just-" Arthur's voice broke. He cleared his throat before trying to speak again. "I don't want to think about losing you. I love you too much."

Eames slowly got closer to Arthur, their lips nearly touching. "I love you so much, Arthur. I don't want to even think of the aspect of leaving you. But you have to be prepared for anything in our line of work, right?"

Arthur, after a slight hesitation, nodded. "I guess so. But I will keep you safe, even if it means me getting hurt in the process."

"If you protect my life and you die, I won't be able to live with myself. I hope you know that," Eames joked lightly, but the tears in his eyes contradicted his tone. "You are my one, my only. My other half, the protector of my heart… Arthur, you are my everything. Life without you doesn't even seem possible. You are like my sunshine after the gloomiest of storms. The warm hearth after a blizzard. You are the light at the end of the tunnel. I can't live without you." Eames' voice cracked, and the tears began to trickle down his face.

A sob strangled on Arthur's throat as he saw a new side of the love of his life. "Oh, Eames. You are perfect. I will never leave you if I have a choice." This time, as Eames got closer to him, Arthur leaned forward to close the distance between them. The jet roared to Sweden, and Arthur and Eames enjoyed every minute of each other's company. Because these moments might have been the last they got to savor.

_**Life becomes harder for us when we live for others, but it also becomes richer and happier. **_

_**-Albert Schweitzer **_


End file.
